Hell's Delusions
by greysnyper
Summary: Because there are some times when Robin shouldn't be left alone...(Halloween fic)


**Hell's Delusions**  
  
The scene of the crime stretched twenty-two city blocks. From Parks to the Riverfront. Straight out, simply having a twenty-two block zone sounds like a really bad lapse in police and rescue forces. But if you had been there, you'd be dumbfounded in wondering why it wasn't larger. Because the speed that bus was going and the way the hijacker was acting...

Marie Clemons, witness to the entire thing, stated that the city line twenty wasn't at the bottom of the Bay only because of those teenage kids. They were fast. They were coordinated. They were everything the situation needed, contrasting the hell that wanted so desperately to break loose.

The hell came later.

A window had been opened. In the cold rain of the day, this action only came about as one passenger, surely a student by the bag he toted on board with him, tried to get an emergency exit available. This happened at block six, just as Marie Clemons had her cell phone speed dialing JCPD. But the guy was smart enough to consider the physics of how fast the hijacked transit was moving, and how leaping would revert a once healthy body to street pizza. (Street pizza in front of Ginzai's Pizzeria. Surely this wasn't some divine attempt at irony) Defeated, Mr.Undergrad left the window open and decided to hold onto the woman next to him. In fear or comfort, it didn't really matter. What did matter by block thirteen, was the green sparrow swooping effortlessly through the only opening on the bus. Some passengers, Marie included, heard the whine of an engine amidst sirens as the sparrow gained two legs and steadily bounded down the aisle to the man at the wheel.

The talking started, because the man wasn't armed. Actually, he had really only gained access to the driver's seat by elements of surprise and astounding strength. The unmoving driver was proof of that, sprawled beside the green kid with a visible bump on his balding head. He was three times the size of the boy, and had been tossed aside by the businessman turned jacker, like paper.

The talking started, calmly with frequent glances towards the red bike evenly kept pace by the closed front doors.

Then the shouting commenced. Screams that were issued when the driver lost his seat, began anew. The same as before. He was being chased. He was going to die. He had to get away. They would find him. They would always find him. He had to go faster. He had to escape. He was going to die.

He wasn't armed; he was crazy. And a final look from green to bike stated that there would be no reasoning without force. A helmet nodded, Marie was sure of it, and things went from slow and desperate, to fast and chaotic.

But hell hadn't broken loose yet.

Only the side where the man was controlling the bus. Green boy suddenly a blur and the doors opened. Someone jumped on and the other two, a winged beast and the man, made their exits. The latter forced by the monster, taking flight as they left the confines of the metal shell. Using less destruction as problem solving, Boy Wonder stopped the bus, easing it onto its twenty-second block. How a deranged maniac could speed a bus recklessly this far without hitting anyone was only less mysterious as pondering how a kid in tights knew how to drive.

There were reported sightings of black smoke or something touching the windows in an almost erratic yet elegant fashion, so maybe the boy didn't stop the bus at all. It would be fair to say that things were over by this point. But despite a shadow dropping down from the sky and the sounds of a scuffle two blocks back, preceded by green lighting, left the masked hero asking questions.

"He just ran up, like he missed a stop and didn't want to be late."  
"Kept screaming about needing to get away."  
"Too much stress I tell you. He was definitely one of those tycoons, with the suits. Maybe he lost stock..."  
"Threw the driver off him like it was nothing. Bet he's related to that Superman..."  
"Hands were white. Holding the steering wheel so tightly. He was scared."

A nod. "Anyone see where he came from?"

"Started from an alley."

"Alley?"

"By Bakers, before Parks Street. There's the one-way for garbage  
trucks. It's beside White Destinys' Salon..."

"Thanks."

Behind White Destiny's.  
The real hell starts there.

* * *

The thrum of the engine died with a fading sound. On the slick concrete, it all went with the mood adopted by the rain. Everything faded slowly, compared to the abrupt endings sun or heat offered. When it rained, things wanted to find a steady graceful completion. The Redbird was not exempt.

A whisper of boots on gravel, more delicate than sirens that were still mournful blocks away, marked his dismount. Those sirens, accompanying the friends he had left behind in haste. For Robin had a theory that only amplified its importance as Beastboy recovered on the curb. As the girls held the hijacker down while he thrashed frantically, with strength beyond anything they would expect from a guy in a suit who was maybe two hundred pounds at most. He wasn't a trouble maker. Something had happened to him. Something had made him afraid, and stronger. Desperate and insane. And it had happened here.

Dismantling the polished helmet, Robin looked at the alleyway in its apparent innocence. A weak breath of air pushed a wrapper along the ground half-heartedly. That, and a golden fleck of straw. Though the garbage bins rusted and greasy lacked for company, he wasn't the only one beholding this scene at this time.

Theory confirmed now, Robin realized that he shouldn't have come to this place alone. There were a lot of times he realized that he shouldn't have been alone.  
That thought didn't stop the Boy Wonder though, from leaping four levels of a fire escape when he saw the watchers' outline disappear over one side of Destiny's roof.

Once more, a seemingly innocent background met him.

"I know you're here Scarecrow." He boldly announced, adding an edge to the threat. There was a feeling tantalizing the air, that disaster was on the brink of its birth. "Why that man? What did you do to him?"

No words. Rather, the limp twisted figure rose right in front of Robin, materializing like a ghost from a mirror. Gloved fingers found familiar hold along the smooth surface of the bo staff, yet the scratch of straw connected first. There was little power behind the blow. Enough to turn Boy Wonders head. To knock the mask off had it not been designed by Batman to stay on. Robin briefly imagined the mask falling, losing its purpose on the shale rooftop and leaving him naked to the world. Naked. An allusion that aptly described his condition now. Useless. Worthless. Isolated. Weak.

Half a step back Robin retreated, gripping the staff remarkably tighter as he tried to shake the feelings from him. The invading emotions that did not belong as much as the voices told him he didn't belong. Voices like his own, and his friends and _his_. Because on a page of data there were symbols and chemicals and compounds to explain to him what happened to the nervous system in certain cases and Scarecrow had beheld these same pages in different gloved hands. Manipulated information and created a nightmare from them.

Indulging in a second half step back Robin bounded, concrete no longer stable but ever so subtly twisting itself into dirt from a circus floor.

"Scared yet?"

The arm not preoccupied with squeezing the staff brushed his face where Scarecrow had met him. He hadn't been fast enough. A failing that gave him a thin stinging sensation and another costume of red. "I'm not afriad of you Scarecrow." Robin growled, reassuring himself that the contact had been minimal. The scratch was small. That the drugs would fade from his system long before they mattered. There wasn't going to be a hell if he could just focus. "Why did you target that man?"

"Mr.Elsdale?" The specter before him responded. It was in a grated voice, heavy and dragging like stone upon stone. No, Robin corrected. Mournful, a ghost beneath the water in lamentation. Neither. It was angry and vindicative. Threatening and vulgar. "I needed a favor from someone in a high place. If I find someone's greatest fear, they will run. But it haunts at them Robin. And they cannot escape it. Did you believe a paper pusher like Elsdale could drive like that?" It was smokey now. Fading in and out. Decibles uncertain of where they should be. Testing themselves. Testing him. "Eventually though, he'll realize that he cannot escape and the paranoia will devour him. To find peace, he must come back to me. Come back to the one thing he fears the most. Call it a deal with the devil. He'll give me anything I want to have his sanity back. Only I have the cure." It was burning. The sound parting from dry lips as Robin watched for any trick being pulled. Powerful. Done with orders and sick of failure. Ready to punish with no more second chances. And suddenly, Scarecrow was speaking smoothly. Eloquent and deep. Each word chosen was chosen with care and granted a likeness to a purr. Slurred and seductive.

"What is your fear Robin?"

Eyebrows widened. Hell stepped closer. He knew that voice. The air shimmered and tested new tinges of grey. Of orange and an eye that glittered with anticipation.

Slade.

"No." And it was a strong reply. Both hands found the staff again, ready for tricks. Slade's Scarecrow's tricks. A fingerprint of blood laced with hallucogens smeared on the cold metal. "Slade is gone. No."

Robin was shocked to find that his voice was changing extremes too.

(Slade) Scarecrow chuckled. It was low and relaxed. "(We're) I'm not surprised Robin. Not in the least. How your greatest fears could take such a form. (It's an honour I'm sure, and flattered.)"

"NO."

"To consider facing (a relationship with) your greatest enemy. Alone..."

Because there were a lot of times Robin shouldn't have been alone.

"No." It was a trick.

"You're infected Robin. You'll be seeing (me) him everywhere. There will be no safe place for you. (I'm always with you Robin.)"

"no." It was a whisper.

"And the only way you'll ever be free is to face this nightmare and find me (find me. You nee)d me Robin. You want me as much as I want you. You're just too afraid to admit it."

no

Staff spinning, Robin charged and Slade stood there. The leader of the Titans could feel the smirk burning the air between them as he closed. And Slade moved fast. Dodging the first swing and materializing around the second. There was a backhand that threw Robin's armed hand wide and in a second retaliation, the bo staff clattered along the drying ground, a gloved fist collecting the fabric of his shirt.

"You want this Robin."

The lips were there, on his. Exactly as he remembered them. Exactly the same burning qualities entering and finding and part of his mind rationally wondered why they brushed painfully like sticks. Coppery leakage mirrored the same time as the unnatural tingling sensation his lips felt. Slade grinned at this and Robin, mind reeling in confusion tried to push back and only pulled in. He knew he didn't want this but how could that be true if he hadn't stopped it. His enemies rough physique and soft clothes pressed into his uniform exactly how it wasn't before. This wasn't right for reasons beyond the obvious. And Slade's lips twisted upwards in a divine way, telling Robin in no words that his plans had all been accomplished. That parts of Jump City were gone now and the Titans with it because Robin wasn't there for them. They were gone. They were dead. It was his fault.

"NO!" The realization of what he had done struck him harder than Slade ever had. Feeling his own scratched lip drip a path down his face, Robin contorted his shock into rage. Green gauntlets grabbed Slade, and Slade looked too surprised for this, and threw the man with all his strength. Like a kite finding an updraft, Slade flew. Light and awkward, upwards airbourne. The edge of the roof accepted Robin's worst enemy like a pile of twigs, audiably.

Robin was shaking. His mind screamed that this was a trick.

It was a trick. Slade had tricked him. Taken him when he was weak or off his guard. Used him to buy time to kill his friends. They were dead.

DEAD!

Across the roof with the backdrop of a burning city, Slade gingerly picked himself up. Robin watched and shook. It was hot because Slade had the city on fire. His hands were shaking because he was angry. They were dead. All of them. Because Robin hadn't been there for them. And for that, Slade was going to pay.  
Slade stood, limbs displaced and crunching in strange ways as Robin closed the distance, slowing only to scoop up the staff. And Slade watched him coming.

"This isn't supposed to be happening." He exclaimed. The smooth voice fraying into panic. Fear. Robin was glad to hear it.

"THE HELL IT IS! LOOK WHAT YOU DID YOU BASTARD!"

Hell hath no fury...

The staff swung effortlessly, a mere extension of his hand. So easy, and powerful. Slade pulled back but there was only a drop off the roof. "I HATE YOU!"

"NO!" Slade rasped.

Robin's avenging swing fell short when the blood printed half of his staff tumbled away. Cleaved in half, Boy Wonder caught sight of a black blur spinning itself out of his vision.

He stopped.

He turned.

A shadow stood on the opposite end of the roof, gathering darkness about itself. Gripping the part of the staff that remained possessively Robin met the glowering stare of the one person he owed everything to.

"What are you doing?" (Batman cried in confusion.) Batman said in the steady voice of control. "You are going to kill him!"

Yes.

"No." Robin answered, hardly believing there was convincing in the words. "I..."

What's wrong Robin? Are you (feeling well?) above the law? Or did you just decide that you could be the next Joker?"

"I..." He stared at the smoking melted metal in his hand. Batman had stopped him from, from killing. "I didn't mean..."

"You didn't mean a lot of things it seems. Your oath? Seems that meant nothing to you."

"No."

"I should have left you alone when I found you. You're exactly like Joker. Two-Face. Riddler. Black Mask. Scarecrow."

Scarecrow...

He recalled. There was a moment missing somewhere. Batman shifted uncertain across from Robin, gaining in darkness or changing in the drizzle. Not saying anything. ("Robin, listen to me. You're infected. Scarecrow's probably gotten to you like he got to the man on the...")

It all lead back to Scarecrow. Robin remembered. He had been there by Batman where Destiny's roof lead to the ladder. And Scarecrow had been there. But now he was here and Scarecrow was by the ladder...

"You're right." Robin breathed, exhaling but there was a pull trying to catch him. The realization didn't want to relax. He couldn't contain the things in him. Whatever they were. (Naked. Useless. Worthless. Isolated. Weak.)

It was all Scarecrows fault.

Scarecrow visibly relaxed, large and towering. And Robin knew, very unprepared. "Give me the cure Scarecrow." He offered. He took the confusion staring back at him from Scarecrow's bristling features as his answer.

("Robin?)

Launching himself towards the monster of drugs and trickery, Robin marveled at just how quickly he closed the distance towards Scarecrow. He was fast. What was left of his weapon twirled just as effortlessly from his trained hands. "YAH!" 

("ROBIN!")

The city, the sky and the cool air all blurred for Robin as he focused on Scarecrow. He had come here with the intentions of stopping him. He was going to achieve this, hell itself not able to intervene. 

But Scarecrows strong metalic arm caught part of Robin as he slammed his staff into his side. There was a very satisfying crack and Robin had a split second to marvel at how strong he was before Scarecrow had used his momentum to propel him over the side of the roof in a clumsy manner.

Cityscape spun dizzingly, and Robin breifly caught a pained stare shockingly watching him drop. Hell swallowing.

"Robin!" Scarecrow bellowed, a desperate sound that perplexed him as air resistance tussled his hair. Stung his cheek. Something came to Robin as he passed the third story in his drop. A familiar pull of his arm to his belt, like he had done this a million times before.

He had.

But this was without a net. Robin gasped, sharp intake of breath not able to overcome the snapping echo and he knew that this was it. He was going to die. The second level of the trapeze poll was a blur in his descent. He closed his eyes and screamed.

* * *

The report was completed.  
A scare drug that had been created to invoke impressionable hallucinations.

"I think Scarecrow should have rethought his plans a little."

"You think!?"

"From what he told the police, he intended to let Elsdale run free until he was desperately scared enough to come back and do his bidding in legal matters. But if Elsdale crassed the bus into the Bay, he's not going to be coming back and Scarecrow gets no favors."

"Or..." Beastboy swivelled around in the Titans control chair. "We can assume that Scarecrow got a crash course in the failings of his plans when Robin went from scared to scary."

Cyborg ran a hand over his head and whistled. "And to think I was scared earlier today by the waterfront waiting to see if I could singlehandedly stop a bus. Throwing Robin off the roof was another thing altogether."

Raven flipped through data printouts fruitlessly. "It's a good thing he wasn't alone up there."

"Better thing that Star can catch."

"Hey! Who singlehandedly took down Scarecrow? The Beaster!"

Raven shook her head. "You grabbed him from behind with the element of surprise. Anything other than that and you would have ended up like Robin."

"And Beastboy...don't ever call yourself that again."

There was a moment of silence where each stole a glance at the door to the medical bay, waiting to hear from Starfire or Batman whether or not their leader would awaken.

It was the waiting that scared them most of all.

* * *

Authors Notes: There you have it. This is my late submission to the Halloween challange I issued. To be honest, despite the encouraging reviews I've gotten so far, I don't like this too much. I wish I could say why. It's lacking and I dunno where.

I'll admit though, some parts are twisted brilliantly and I'll be a little disappointed if I don't get any angry letters. Heee.

As much as I want to blame the people from Titan Slash, I owe them a lot. Ginzai was my original beta. Yami no Kaiba inspired the title. Mojojessjo, Melian, Katarik, and my sister deserve a hand in making my rough draft less craptastic.

If anyone did happen to love this, I suggest you go read the June-July Batman arc in the comics where Batman takes on Scarebeast. It's kinda the same concept but with Batman. It got me inspired, along with Ginzai's fever fic.

Thanx for um, reading this far.


End file.
